


Bonded

by sirimiriii



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 06:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17823578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirimiriii/pseuds/sirimiriii
Summary: Following the events of the game, Mary-Beth pays a visit to Arthur.





	Bonded

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write something from one of the other former gang members for a few days and this is what happened. Please enjoy!

The sun was just slipping below the horizon when Mary-Beth arrived at the grave, but it didn’t matter. It was going to be a clear night and she always carried a lantern on her horse. With purpose now, she swung down from her horse and approached the grave. It was a simple enough grave marker, surrounded by bursts of flowers, with his name emblazoned across it. A lump formed in her throat. It had been years now, she recognized, but she still felt the loss acutely. Maybe she would for the rest of her life. If that was the case, she would bear it. She was lucky to have him around as long as she did, after all.

 

In places the grass was worn down and she wondered just who had been here before her. Charles, she knew, was the one who buried him here. When their paths crossed, he mentioned it and gave her easy directions. He reasoned that the out of the way location was the kind of place he would have loved. She didn’t disagree, especially as she saw the pinks and blues in the sky now. It was a beautiful spot. If she saw Charles again, she would tell him just that.

 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come,” she said.

 

The wind was the only answer, of course.

 

“I wish I could’ve said a proper goodbye, you know,” she continued, “but I couldn’t risk it. I didn’t want anybody to know, but then I ended up leaving with Pearson and Swanson anyway.”

 

She paused, focusing on his name. “We came up with a plan on the fly, you see. We would split up and meet in Saint Denis. We all made it too.”

 

She paused again and lowered herself to a kneeling position. That felt better. She reached out, touching the grave marker. “I wish you’d have made it too,” she murmured, “though I know you couldn’t. That illness – Arthur, I wish I could have done something for you. What a nasty business.”

 

Since then, she had read up on tuberculosis and couldn’t imagine how Arthur had pushed himself as much as he did. She supposed she did know how: he did it for love, the love of those he wanted to carry on when he couldn’t. It was why he hadn’t pursued any of them, demanding answers as to why they were leaving. He could have found them, of that she was sure. He was intuitive. He might disagree, reasoning if he was intuitive, he would have recognized the signs of breakdown earlier. That was just the sort of man he was.

 

“I miss you,” she said presently, “I miss our little talks the most. You won’t believe it though – I’m an author now. Go by Leslie Dupont. Funny name, I guess, but it works for me. Couldn’t very well use Mary-Beth Gaskill. The law might know me.”

 

She sighed softly. The law probably didn’t care one whit about her. She had a lot of skills, mostly honed during her time with the gang, that they wouldn’t like in this new world, but she was a woman and that made her less of a concern, she guessed. Women were pawns to be played against the men. No lawman would ever really believe a woman would do any of this without a man. She would and could, but that life was over now. In fact, she didn’t much want anything to do with that kind of life. It cost her everything.

 

“I don’t know what happened to Karen. I’ve seen Tilly. John too. He went and bought a farm. You’d be proud of him, I bet.”

 

How she longed for Arthur to answer back. She expected she would start crying soon because she missed him – missed _all_ of them sorely. She missed the afternoons she’d spend working with Tilly and Karen. She even missed the shrillness of Miss Grimshaw’s voice when she was telling them off. What she wouldn’t give to hear another _you girls_ diatribe.

 

She thought now of Kieran, who hadn’t lived long enough to see the gang fall apart. There had been some potential there – maybe. She’d liked him well enough at least. She guessed she had been the first person in the gang to be kind to him. The others followed her lead or seemed to. Even Bill, who teased him like nothing else, seemed to accept him. Kieran, of course, hadn’t thought so, but she herself had assured him: _you’re no O’Driscoll, you’re one of us now._ Oh, he had smiled so beatifically. It had warmed her heart.

 

The day the O’Driscolls sent his corpse in had been one of the worst days of her life.

 

“You lived with the guilt too,” she said, “didn’t you?”

 

Arthur was angry back then, she knew that much. _He was just a kid_.

 

She closed her eyes, willing herself to remember the exact timbre of his voice. She tried to remember all the voices of her friends, filing them away to replay later. She liked to use facets of them in her novels and her readers seemed to respond to them. She was gratified from that.

 

“It’s gonna be dark soon, Arthur, so I guess … I guess I should go. I’ll visit you again, I promise. I’ve let a room in Valentine, so I’m really not that far these days. I come and go from Valentine a lot. I guess it reminds me of all of you. Things were good back then, I think, as good as they could have been after Blackwater. I was happy anyway. I always wonder … were _you_ happy?”

 

She thought back, trying to remember anything that could give her a clue.

 

“Mary-Beth?” That voice was straight out of her memories and she half-turned, still on her knees. In the twilight, she made out a face she never expected to see again.

 

“Sadie?! I thought you were dead!”

 

“Could say I thought the same of you!”

 

Mary-Beth scrambled to her feet and hugged the other woman. “Oh, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you!”

 

“I think I got a good idea.”

 

Sheepish, she pulled back. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” Sadie was smiling. “It’s good to see you.”

 

“And you!”

 

“Last I saw John, he told me he’d seen you in Valentine, honestly, but I wondered about all of you.”

 

“John’s good?”

 

“I’d say so. He and Abigail got married.”

 

“Oh! I’m so happy to hear that!”

 

“I was there for their wedding. It was … maybe five days ago. Uncle was there too.”

 

“Uncle’s alive?” She supposed she should’ve expected it. Good ol’ Uncle was a lovable cockroach.

 

“Are you surprised?” It was like Sadie read her mind.

 

“Not really, if I’m honest.”

 

They fell into a companion kind of silence. Then Sadie spoke, “Are you here a lot?”

 

“No,” she admitted, “not as much as I’d like anyway. Maybe more so now. I’m in Valentine … sort of permanently, I guess. Might go up to Boston sometime. My publisher’s there.”

 

“John said you’re writing romances?”

 

“Yes, it’s … therapeutic, I guess. I always liked writing too.”

 

“You and Arthur both.”

 

Mary-Beth smiled. “Guess so.”

 

“John has the journal.”

 

“What! I always wanted to read that! Tried to convince him to let me. Didn’t work.”

 

“He can’t stop you now.”

 

“Guess I better pay a visit to John and Abigail.”

 

“Bet they’d be happy to see you.”

 

She nodded, pleased about the prospect.

 

“I’m heading off myself. Not quite sure where exactly. Charles is heading up to Canada. Maybe I’ll do that too.”

 

“Well, if you’re ever around again, please come visit me.”

 

“I will.” Sadie took a kneeling position in front of the grave marker. “Just wanted to say my goodbye to Arthur here.”

 

“I’ll leave you alone.” Mary-Beth told her. “I’ll – well, I’ll be seeing you.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Mary-Beth walked back to her horse and swung up. Darkness was pressing in all around them, so she took out her lantern, lit it and held it in one hand while the other held the reins.

 

Sadie didn’t look back at her, so she started her descent back toward Valentine. She expected Sadie had her own private thoughts and feelings to share with Arthur. Sadie was no stranger to loss, but Mary-Beth had seen the friendship between her and Arthur. She expected Sadie felt the loss as deeply as she did. This loss bound them all together, the remnants of their past.

 

She knew exactly what kind of novel she was going to write next.


End file.
